The Domination

Epilogue I

CHATEAU RETOUR PLANTATION,

TOURAINE PROVINCE

OCTOBER 1947

“Am I bein’ sentimental, love?” Tanya von Shrakenberg asked, as they watched the captive priest bless the earth. It was a raw autumn day, they were the only Draka present, sitting their horses behind a screen of drab-coated serfs, while the world spread around them in gray cloud, wet earth, faded brightness of vine leaves that whirled away down the wind like messages to yesterday.

“Yes,” her husband replied. The gaping hole had been refilled, where the decontamination crews had pumped the shelter full of liquid concrete and taken out the block entire. Filled with good earth, and now consecrated as a graveyard. The vestments of the priest were a splash of color against the raw brown earth and the simple granite tombstone; but even before the ceremony, the serfs had begun to come with flowers and ribbons for the resting place of the one who had died for them.

“Yes,” he said. “But we can afford a little, now and then.” A squeeze of their gloved hands. “Andrew has his memorial, and it’s mo’ showy; let them have theirs.” He took up the reins. “C’mon, love, dinner’s waitin’.”

They reined about and heeled their horses. The serfs bowed as they passed, but remained kneeling to pray for her whose spirit surely abided to guard this place.